


Bots Gone Mild

by vanceypants



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Trans Rich Goranski, jeremy's squip and rich are roommates and unnecessary unlikely friends, this is completely au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanceypants/pseuds/vanceypants
Summary: Running on limited time, Rich has two final wishes: to create something memorable to leave behind, and to lose his virginity.  Why not go two for one and film a skin flick?ORSquip helps his roommate find a pornographic romance by contractually swindling a former coworker.ORLife, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Booty, a manifesto by Richard Goranski
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Jeremy Heere's Squip, Rich Goranski/Rich Goranski's Squip
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Bots Gone Mild

“I still fail to see why you had to tell me all of this.”

Squip kept his tone neutral, almost pleasant, his expression calm, as he surveyed Rich over his coffee cup. The lines of steam caressed his synthetic skin.

Rich blinked at him, exhaustion still clear in the bags under his eyes despite the hyperactive way he’d painted the scene. “Uh, because it’s a cool idea? Because you’re my friend? Because-”

“I really don’t need to know about the status of your virginity, Goranski. Even between our limited barriers and standards, that’s a little much.” Squip raised the mug to his lips, porcelain against silicone, and took a slow drink. It was hot and bitter and needless, an indulgence that wasn’t required to fuel his movements, but perhaps it was through such lack of necessity that he found a purpose in his day to day living.

Rich rolled his eyes. “Oh, grow up, bro.”

“Grow up. You’re asking me to grow up.”

“Yeah, you’re being super immature about all of this.”

“I’m being--okay. I’ll humor you. What exactly about this conversation was supposed to appeal to--have you slept yet?” His eyes narrowed as Rich suppressed another yawn. 

“No,” Rich managed to get the sound out through another yawn. “But it’s okay, I-”

“You’re going straight to bed.”

“Hey, wait-”

Squip rose from his seat, grabbing Rich by the wrist. Unsurprisingly, Rich wrenched his hand away, nose creased in annoyance. 

“No, dude, no, I’ll--hey, come on, we were just having a conversation!”

“Bed. You’ll forget all these fantasies about pornographic stardom after you’ve gotten a little rest.”

“Whatever, man. You’re just a bore.”

Squip escorted Rich to his bedroom, just down the hallway, across from the master suite he’d made his own domain in their shared apartment. It was interesting, to say the least, rooming with a human being. 

Even one who held so little regard for caring for himself, and who so manically shared their every fleeting flight of fancy.

Rich collapsed onto the unmade mattress, as Squip scoffed and tossed a mound of blankets over him. He watched as Rich squirmed into a more comfortable position.

“Sleep,” Squip commanded. Order was necessary. Clearly, Rich wasn’t capable of commanding any for himself.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Rich grumbled, nuzzling against his pillow. “But I’m not going to forget. And you’re going to help me with this.”

“Just sleep.”

“Dipshit.”

“Inferior life form.”

“Nyah,” Rich stuck his tongue out at Squip, though his eyes had already fluttered closed. With his eyes closed, Squip could afford the faintest of smiles.

“Enjoy your REM cycle, Goranski.”

***

“Did you renegotiate your c-contract?”

Squip made a soft sound that Jeremy was almost certain was affirmative, but his expression remained as unreadable and cryptic as ever.

He sighed. “Squip.”

“What?”

“Did y...you rene...did you redo your contract?”

“Yes, Jeremy.”

The contract system was, in theory, a fair compromise for botkind. Rather than direct ownership by humans, the robot’s labor was locked down for a set period of time. It wasn’t much different, Jeremy thought, from a human’s form of employment.

Except for the fact that a robot ‘wasting their labor’ or ‘operating without a contract’ was illegal, of course. But Jeremy tried not to think too much about that.

It was easy to ignore it, when Squip operated, for the most part, within the letter of the law. The bakery had been good to him, or as good as any human-owned, bot-labored business could claim to be. Jeremy had worried, perhaps unfairly, that Squip would opt out of continuing his contract with them once his current terms ended or, more likely, that the bakery themselves would drop him.

“And?”

“Rich Goranski is filming a porno. Are you going to be in it?”

This wasn’t the elaboration that Jeremy had expected. His mind tore away from the minutiae of robot employment law, as he stared at his boyfriend in a state of mind-cracked shock.

“H-huh?”

“Rich Goranski is filming a porno. Are you going to be in it?”

“I, um, y-yeah, I heard-”

“Then why did you say ‘huh’? That indicates a human’s lack of comprehension. Can you try to be a little more efficient in communication?”

Jeremy ignored the irritation in Squip’s voice. He stood up, running his fingers through his hair, and pacing just slightly. He’d known Squip’s roommate for longer than he’d known Squip, had gone to school with him, had maybe kissed him, once, at Jake Dillinger’s 21st birthday bash. He’d known him before-

“Is th-that even safe for him to do? I, uh, I mean, m-maybe he should clear it with his doctor.”

Squip looked at him incredulously. “Unless his cancer has a side effect of making his vagina rot, which last I checked isn’t a possibility, I doubt that’ll have an effect on this.”

“J-Jesus, Squip!” Jeremy flopped back onto his seat, face bright red. “Why are you even t-telling me this?”

“He’ll need a co-star. I’ll allow you-”

“No.” Jeremy sighed. “Why don’t _you_ co-star with him then?”

“Too strange. I know him too well.” Squip took a seat beside him. “...I was only kidding anyway, I won’t allow you to star in his film.”

“Gee, gl-glad you have the, uh, the power to stop me.”

“But he’ll likely ask you for camera work.”

“Great. My big film d-debut.” He paused, a smile suddenly on his face. “My big film debut!” The sarcasm had left his voice on the reiteration of the sentence. “I-if anyone would have a good eye for this sort of th-thing, it’d be me. Do you r-really think he’ll ask me to help?”

“How should I know?” Squip’s tone was growing strained in the way it tended to get when he was tired of a subject. “It would make the most sense. He doesn’t exactly have the budget to pay anyone else. Though I don’t think he understands the sort of undertaking this is-”

“Eh, it doesn’t have to be that complicated.”

“Perhaps we should film our own just to research how difficult it’ll be for him.”

Jeremy reached over, brushing his fingers against Squip’s knee. He smiled, as a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth. “G-good idea. I’ll go get my camer-”

“No time for that.”

Jeremy squeaked as Squip pulled him on top of him, their lips barely touching as Squip’s hands began working their way under his shirt.

***

After the months of chemotherapy, after the surgeries, after the experimental pills, it had almost been a relief when they’d said there was nothing more that could be done.

Rich’s hair had grown almost directly in proportion to the lowered sense of hopelessness he’d felt upon learning of his own doom. So he was dying. So what? Everyone else was dying too, and they didn’t let that stop them.

He’d found himself in a comfortable enough routine. He was too sick most days to work now, but still found enough energy to occasionally hit the gym, or grab books from the library, or watch tutorials on youtube for hobbies he’d never have time to master. He spent a lot of time with his roommate, and his roommate’s boyfriend, and with Jake. It was nice, having nice people in his life.

He tried not to think too much about missing them.

And maybe it was in that trying not to think state that he’d come up with this plan. 

Rich Goranski was a virgin of the highest order. He’d kissed Jeremy once, and he’d definitely slapped Squip’s ass a number of times, and Jake had offered to eat him out twice--once when they were 15, and once the day after he’d found out there were no options left and Jake had blurted out the first thing he could think of to try to cheer him up.

He’d figured it’d be cruel to let Jake feast on some bomb-ass pussy that would be worm food in less than a year, though, so he’d declined. It had probably been a joke anyway.

Better, he thought, to find someone random. And then the idea of legacy had reared its head, and next thing he knew, the Untitled Rich Goranski Cherry Pop Project had been born.

“How do I even advertise this?”

Squip didn’t bother looking up from his book. He still had a little powder on his nose from his time at the bakery. It made Rich smile, and he opted not to tell him. “Not Craigslist. You don’t need AIDS on top of everything else.”

“Maybe it could fight my cancer and I’d emerge victorious.”

“Unlikely.” The sound of him turning a page was soft and comforting and Rich kicked his legs back and forth in his chair as he considered it.

“So what then? Do I just approach hot guys and hope they’re chill with it?”

“Absolutely not.” 

“OKCupid? Plenty of Fish? Listen. I don’t know how to do this, in case you haven’t noticed. Guide me.”

“My job is to guide Jeremy.”

“Your job is to frost cakes. Heyyyyy, you wanna frost _my_ cake instead?”

“Distasteful.”

“I know, I know. But you gotta help me.”

“Why?”

“You gotta.”

Squip set his book down, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment, before he sighed. “Why don’t you draw up a contract and get artificial assistance?”

“From you?”

“No. But there are plenty of bots built for this exact purpose.”

Rich considered it.

He considered it and considered it and considered it.

Survey says: hot.

“How do I meet-”

“Draw up a contract--okay, I’ll draw up a contract for you, you won’t get the phrasing right--and I’ll find someone. Alright? Do you have any specifications for the candidate you’d like?”

“Oh, yeah. Plenty.”

“Do tell.”

“One: boy. Two: cute. Three: won’t throw up when he sees me naked.”

“Wow.”

“Right? I’ve really thought this through. Oh, and maybe four: tall? Maybe? That’d be kinda sick.”

“Tall, aesthetically pleasing, male, low standards. Understood.”

Rich looked around for something to throw at Squip, but failed to find anything within reach. “Hey, I’m allowed to roast me, but it’s abuse when you do it.”

“Yes yes, I’m the evil supercomputer and you’re the helpless human, however will you manage to cope.” Squip walked over to him, placing a hand on top of his head. It was a heavy touch, but Rich understood it to be affectionate, if misplaced. “Eat something besides canned ravioli tonight. You need vegetables.”

“You going to eat with me?”

“I haven’t the time.”

“Excuses excuses.”

“And I haven’t the need. Eat. I’ll write up the contract.”

“Make sure he’s CUTE, Squip! My virginity is in your hands!”

***

If Moses were of a different mindset, he’d have considered the entire narrative of his termination absolute bullshit.

As it stood, instead he was stuck wondering what it was he could have done differently.

“I’ll have them suspend my contract as well. This is unjustifiable.”

Squip had very few human habits, at least in comparison to Moses. But as Moses watched the smoke swirl up from Squip’s lit cigarette, he couldn’t help the slight smile upon his own face at the sheer humanity of his indignation.

It was a small comfort, in the wake of his lost dignity.

“Don’t do that. It was hard enough getting you hired on in the first place.” Moses scooted closer to him on the curb, considering for once accepting Squip’s offer for a cigarette. If there was any time to gum up his interiors with tar, now was definitely the right moment.

And sure, he had 30 days to seek another contract before the recycling plants came knocking, but how much longer could he be expected to do this?

“Perhaps you could become a Kept Bot.”

Marriage, or the equivalent thereof, certainly held an appeal. But Moses didn’t want an exemption from labor to be his motivation for partnership.

Was it so awful that he wanted more?

Maybe it was. Wanting more had gotten him to speak up about the labor violations within the bakery. Wanting more had gotten him face to face with the owner of the shop and unceremoniously tossed onto the street.

Wanting more had cost him everything, yet again.

How many times was he going to have to pick himself back up and start all over again? How long before options ran out?

“Maybe someday. Though I hardly offer much to a partner,” Moses smiled sadly. “There are other bakeries. I can start from the bottom again.”

“Hm.” Squip took a long drag of his cigarette, brows furrowed as he exhaled the long line of smoke. The little whir from his body betrayed the damage that each drag took on the metallic insides lying just beneath his synthetic skin. “Perhaps you should seek something more one on one.”

“Like a personal chef position? I’ve tried that.” He still had the scars from his employer to prove it. Synthetic skin had to be fixed by a technician, after all, and that required more money than any contract of his could afford. 

His lack of healing abilities left a sticky, uncomfortable feeling over him, but like so many other things, he opted to ignore it.

“I know someone who’s hiring--it’s a temporary position, but I think you’ll find it fulfilling.”

“Everything is a temporary position for us, Squip.”

Squip shrugged slightly. “I have the paperwork if you wanted to go over it.”

Things with Squip always seemed to move in fast forward. He had a way of making things happen, whether or not you were fully onboard. Moses felt a thousand questions flutter through his mind, even as he opened his hand, and took the contract that Squip pulled from his back pocket.

It was cryptic, vague, and clearly had been written up by Squip. The thought processes were too familiar to ignore. “Do you know this person?”

“My roommate.”

“I thought he didn’t work.” Moses knew little about Squip’s homelife, except that he lived with a human, and that Squip supported the financials. He’d thought it was a romantic engagement until he’d been introduced to Jeremy and learned that this human was different from the roommate. 

“He’ll pay you, don’t worry.”

“With what money? And what, exactly, is this job? You really did leave everything vague. “Personal Services”? “Showmanship”?”

“Are you interested or not?”

“Interested in _what_? I don’t understand this contract at all.”

Squip sighed. “You’re unbearable. It’s an easy job. You’re more than qualified.”

“Does it involve baking at all?”

Squip looked at him seriously. “I’m sure it’ll involve an abundance of creampies.”

Moses felt his face touch with color, though he decided that Squip hadn’t intended anything lewd by the statement. Baking sometimes involved pies. Pies sometimes had cream.

He found himself signing the contract without another word. After all, why should he struggle through employment searching when an opportunity had already presented itself? And Squip knew the human, so surely there was a safety net there.

How strange a job could it possibly be?

***

Squip could feel the electricity in the air the moment their eyes locked. It was a cliche way to phrase it. Perhaps he should have instead locked into the pheromones, though that wasn’t altogether accurate either. Moses was a being of electricity, while Rich was a being of hormones, so the truth in the cliche lay somewhere in between.

Regardless, Moses was wearing his interview attire, well pressed suit and tie, hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail, his dark hands gently running down the front of his suit jacket as he fit a shy smile onto his face. “You must be-”

“Rich. I’m...hi, I’m Rich.” Rich’s own smile was large, dazzling, his eyes bright and eager as he reached out with both of his own tiny hands to grasp one of Moses’. 

Their touch lingered even after the handshake ended.

“Wow. You’re, like, really tall, Mo--um, Moses.”

“Mo is fine.”

“Like, Squip said you were hot, but you’re _really_ hot.”

“Oh! Ah,” Moses laughed, finally separating his hand from Rich’s grip, only to rub the back of his neck. “Thank you. I...perhaps you should show me the kitchen?”

“Why? Is that where you think we should do it?”

“Well, that’s typically where it’s, ah, where these things take place, yes?”

“I thought it’d be more of a bedroom thing. Maybe some rose petals--shit, though, you’re right, that’s pretty gay. Yeah. We should check out the kitchen! I’d probably look pretty dope bent over the counter-”

The charade, Squip realized, wouldn’t last much longer.

“You’re not here to cook.” Squip moved between them, looking first at Moses, then at Rich.

“Cook?” Rich repeated. He gasped, taking a step backwards. “Oh. Oh, shit, Squip didn’t actually tell you what you were here for? Holy shit, oh my god, I must seem like the creepiest-”

“I don’t understand,” Moses said softly.

“Rich wants to film a pornographic film. He insisted he needed someone tall. Clearly, you are both attracted to one another, I can sense from the movements of your eyes and the placement of your bodies as you communicate. It’ll likely take a few weeks to get everything together, and you will be compensated through funds in an account I have set up in Rich’s name. Now--where are you going?”

“To die,” Rich groaned, as he walked out of the room. Squip heard the door to his room slam, and rolled his eyes.

“He’s very sensitive, even though he’d like us to believe otherwise. It may be wise to let him think you buy his act.” Squip’s eyes flickered over Moses, who looked more than a little ill himself. “What’s wrong with your face, Moses?”

“I think I need some time to think this through.”

Squip watched as Moses pulled away, walking towards the front door.

“You signed the contract,” Squip called after him. “Quitting is a breach in the agreement.”

Moses didn’t respond, gently closing the front door behind him as he left. Squip folded his arms and ignored how much he wanted a cigarette. Smoking inside was forbidden.

It might have been a rule set by himself, but rules were rules.

He huffed and took a seat on the couch, and considered just how little appreciation he received in this life.

***

“Y-you should have told him what the job was.”

Squip certainly had a way of thinking his plans were infallible. Jeremy had a tendency of tipping right into their path every damn time, too.

But this seemed a little too much, even for him.

“Why?”

“W-well, because, um, because you obviously made them both uncomfortable.”

Squip rolled his eyes. Jeremy should have expected it; he never took it very well when his plans and ideas were questioned. “Sometimes a little discomfort is necessary.”

“Don’t you think it would have gone e-easier if they’d, uh, they’d known what you were involving-”

“Rich knew what he was getting involved in. He’s the one who wanted to do this in the first place.”

“But M-Mo-”

Moses was sensitive. He might have been large and strong, but he was just as much of a cupcake as the delicacies he used to create at his former place of employment (Jeremy tried not to worry about the fact that Moses had, more than once, prevented Squip from losing his own place at that bakery--without his influence, who was to say Squip would keep his security net?). A poetic heart, a gentle disposition.

All in all, not a toughened, worldly, impulsive porn star by any means.

“-doesn’t know what he wants,” Squip finished Jeremy’s sentence, in all the ways Jeremy hadn’t intended on saying. “I’m giving him the push he needs. And he needed a job anyway. If he was so concerned, he should have questioned what the position was more thoroughly.”

“As if you w-would have answered him.”

“You don’t know that.”

Except Jeremy did. He definitely knew that.

“So...s-so what happened? When Rich c-came out?”

“After his melodramatic exit, you mean?” Squip rolled his eyes again. If he kept that up, he was going to damage his artificial optic nerves, Jeremy almost stated, but last time he’d said something like that, Squip hadn’t been nearly as amused as Jeremy had hoped he’d be. “He called him. They’re out now.”

“Wait...what?”

“What?”

“They’re...y-you said they’re out now. Out where?”

“I don’t know. I felt no need to ask.”

“Y-you felt no...they’re gone? Together?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Oh.”

Maybe Squip’s plans weren’t as foolish as Jeremy had previously thought.

Lord knew they could both use the positive influence of each other. Rich tried to hide his loneliness, but he’d lost so many people--intentionally and otherwise--during his initial round of treatment, and the few who’d lingered through that had dropped off once all hopes had shriveled up.

How well he could claim to be hiding it when he was planning on getting railed on camera, though, who was to say?

Moses was lonely too. Jeremy knew he was friends with Squip, and with Jeremy too (though they’d only really interacted a few times). But who else did he have? Jeremy felt ashamed to realize he didn’t know the answer to that. He knew he used to have a cat, and that he liked to sew (Squip had been turned into a barely willing mannequin on more than one occasion), and that he knew several card tricks. But who was important to him? Did he have a family?

Well.

Figuratively speaking, anyway. Being synthetic, naturally he wouldn’t have a biological family.

“M-maybe this _is_ a good idea.”

“No shit, Jeremy,” Squip sneered. His expression softened almost instantly, his hand moving to gently rub Jeremy’s shoulder.

“Y-yeah,” Jeremy laughed, falling over to rest against Squip’s side. He grabbed the remote, turning their show back on, as he folded his feet up onto the couch. Squip’s gentle rubbing stopped, as he wrapped his arm completely around Jeremy. Jeremy turned his head slightly, kissing Squip’s cheek, before resting against his shoulder again as the program continued its progress.

***

Moses was beautiful.

He was fucking beautiful.

He was fucking beautiful and technically he was under Rich’s contract, or Rich owned his contract, or whatever the correct terminology was.

It made him feel guilty. Sick with it, a heavy weight in his stomach, even as Moses laughed.

“You don’t have anything to feel bad about, Richard.”

“But I do!” Richard. When was the last time someone had called him Richard? Probably Squip, he thought. Probably Squip when he’d failed to empty the dishwasher, or left his underwear in the bathroom, or some other roommate annoyance. He decided he liked how it sounded on Mo’s lips, sweet and sincere and respectful. So this was what respect felt like. Weird. “You thought you were getting, like, some sort of sweet cooking gig--pun intended, because you did pastries and shit, right?”

“Right.” Moses leaned forward, straw in his mouth, as he sipped his strawberry shake. He’d seemed so indecisive, finally deflecting to Rich’s suggestion. His whipped cream was still immaculate, cherry still placed neatly on top.

Rich had chomped through his own, spitting the stem into a napkin, then rapidly stirring the cream into his ice cream. It tasted nice, but the aesthetic was ruined in the process.

He could feel a little trickle of ice cream against the corner of his own mouth, and rapidly wiped it away. Moses’ eyes crinkled at the corners as his smile broadened. It made Rich blush and wriggle in his seat.

He’d called him--the phone number on the copy of the contract Squip had written--to apologize, to meet up to discuss options (namely options to get Moses out of the whole Bone Zone thing without penalizing him for breaking a contract). He hadn’t counted on getting anything to eat, though he certainly wasn’t going to say no to a free milkshake, or on spending a good hour just talking.

“Anyway, you thought you were getting this great job, but instead-”

“I don’t intend on breaking my contract.” Moses took another drink, lashes fluttering as he looked across the table at Rich. 

Rich’s heart throbbed.

That, and other things throbbed as well.

“Oh.”

“Unless you find me unsuitable for the job, of course. But, ah...just so we’re straight--”

“Or gay.”

“Or gay,” Moses giggled. “Just to keep things gay-”

“Well, bi. I’m bi.”

“Hi Bi, I’m Moses.”

“Oh my god.” Rich snorted into his own shake. “Dumb. That was so stupid, bro.”

“I know.” But it didn’t make him lose the smile, the never ending supply of endearment that seemed to radiate off of him.

“But uh. Keeping things straight. Gay. Bi. Whatever. Getting things cleared up. What were you going to ask?”

“Ah. Of course. The position is,” Moses bit his lip briefly, a look of shy nervousness overtaking his strong features, before he softened into a smile again. “Sexual relations. On camera. Right?”

“Right. I wanna film a porno for my first time.”

“First time?” Moses’ eyebrows rose. “You’re a-”

“Shh, don’t say it. The V word. Hell no--I mean, yeah, I am, but don’t _say_ it, you know?”

“I’m just surprised. You seem so...well, that’s reductive and insensitive, to say that.”

“Say it anyway. I’m a reductive and insensitive sort of guy.”

“I doubt that.” Moses lifted his paper napkin, dabbing at his mouth daintily, before setting it back into his lap. “You’re just very attractive. I’m surprised that no one has snatched you up.”

“Lucky for you though, right?” Rich joked.

“Very much so.”

Moses’ voice was nothing but sincere.

And there was that pesky throbbing all over again.

***

They walked together from the ice cream parlor, Rich treating the curb as a balance beam of sorts, foot in front of foot, graceful and goofy at the same time.

He was incredibly adorable, Moses couldn’t help but note. When was the last time he’d had a boss so cute?

That was inappropriate. That was incredibly inappropriate.

Then again, they were going to be sleeping with each other. On film. For all to see.

Moses’ anxious gears clicked and wriggled and grinded against each other at the prospect.

And then he caught sight of Rich’s profile, his beaming smile, his button nose, his shimmering eyes, and the anxiety stopped being about being seen in such an intimate, exposed way, and instead became anxiety about wanting so badly for this man to like him.

What was he? Some sort of schoolgirl bot? Absolutely embarrassing and unacceptable.

“So the way I see it, we’ll probably need a soundtrack or something. And we’ll need to figure out just where to do it. I guess the apartment, it can be a pretty lowkey thing. I talked to Jeremy and he said he’d help film it, but is that weird? Like, he’s my friend, do I really want him seeing my ass?”

Moses shifted closer to Rich, partly to avoid oncoming pedestrian traffic, partly just to be near him. “If you’re shy about that, how are you going to handle people seeing the finished product?”

“Oh. I’ll be long gone by then,” Rich waved his hand dismissively.

It didn’t seem the sort of statement one could just dismiss though. “What do you mean?”

A bicycle chose that exact moment to veer down the walkway, splitting itself between the pair of them. Rich hopped off the curb into the street, his eyes narrowed into an annoyed glare as he turned around to flip the bicyclist off.

“You believe that?”

“Some people are a little oblivious.”

“Tell me about it! Oblivious motherfuckers. Speaking of oblivious, I’ve been trying to get you to hold my hand this whole time, but you’ve been completely ignoring my advances.”

“You’ve been--oh!” Moses moved closer to Rich, and reached out, trying to make it seem like a thoughtless action, though truth be told every bit of himself was committed to overthinking it. Their hand tangled together, and Rich looked at him in surprise.

“I didn’t realize I said that outloud,” He admitted sheepishly.

“I didn’t realize I was missing so many hints.”

Rich laughed. “Well, you’re stupidly beautiful, you know?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, you should know. People should be telling you that, like, all the time. ...I sound so superfuckingficial, huh?”

Rich’s mind was rapid and fleeting and Moses tried to align himself with his wavelength.

He didn’t ever want to disengage from his thought patterns.

He didn’t know how they made it all the way to Rich’s house. He didn’t know how the sun had begun to set. He didn’t know how he’d gotten into this whole mess in the first place, except that Squip had been pleasantly deceptive, and Rich had been pleasantly adorable, and Moses had been unpleasantly lonely, so fucking lonely.

Rich leaned back against the door, looking up at Moses with his teeth briefly touching against his bottom lip, before he took both of Moses’ hands into his own. “I’m, like, really glad I’m gonna be doing this with you.”

“Me too.” Moses strummed his thumb over Rich’s fingers. They were so delicate, and chilled. He collected both hands into his palms, bringing them to his mouth and gently blowing on them, trying to warm them.

Rich laughed. “I’m not that cold.”

Moses’ touch moved from his hands to instead grip his wrists. He was careful, mindful of the delicacy of human bone, as he kissed each individual fingertip, one after another. Rich’s eyes widened, his blinking surprised, head tilting. His fingers twitched slightly.

“I’d really like the chance to court you.”

“Yeah, that could be cool, I guess.” Rich’s voice melted and Moses smiled.

Or maybe he’d never stopped smiling to begin with. His entire expression seemed to be frozen into a permanent smile. It was hard to believe he’d ever known anything but joy since this night had happened.

“Orrrr,” Rich added.

“Or?”

“Or you could, like, kiss me? Now? Please?”

They hardly knew each other, Moses thought. Rich was his employer. It was a temporary job, just a contract, and they hardly fucking knew each other.

And Rich smiled at him like he was spun of childhood dreams and cotton candy. Like he was delicious and delicate and full of hopes and dreams. Like he mattered.

Like he was beautiful.

Moses cupped Rich’s face in one hand, and felt him nuzzle against his palm. Rich moved his face to the side briefly and kissed the pad of Mo’s thumb. Mo’s other hand rose, resting against his other cheek, as Rich faced him again.

He watched as Rich rose onto his tiptoes. And he felt himself stoop down. His hair was beginning to fall out of his ponytail, strands framing them as he kissed him. Rich’s mouth was soft and tasted of strawberry. Sweet. 

He’d been right in suggesting that particular flavor, Moses thought briefly, as he tugged Rich closer to deepen the kiss.

***

They were kissing on the front porch.

Squip hadn’t meant to intrude. But he’d checked out the window, to see what it was that kept bumping against the doorbell. 

And there they were, Rich’s back against the door--or rather, against the doorbell, with Moses pressed firmly against him, towering over his tiny body. Squip had gawked for a moment, more startled than anything else, before he’d pulled away, slipped on his shoes, and headed for the back door.

He knew when he wasn’t needed.

***

Michael’s annoyance punctuated the basement. “Your _boyfriend_ ’s here, Jer.”

Jeremy glanced up from the game, pausing as he leapt to his feet. “H-huh? Why-”

“I thought we agreed no boyfriends tonight. I cleared my schedule for-”

“Your schedule?” Squip looked at him incredulously. “I’m sure rearranging your pitiful-”

Jeremy stopped him before he could finish the sentence. He placed a hand against Squip’s chest, shooting Michael an apologetic glance, before finally turning towards his boyfriend. “Wh-what are you doing at Michael’s house?”

“Looking for you, obviously.”

“Why-”

“My house is occupied.”

“That’s called having a roommate,” Michael grumbled.

“Wh-what do you mean the house is occupied?”

“Rich and Moses. They’re _bonding_.”

Jeremy took a moment to comprehend the meaning. “But I thought that was g-going to be on camera.”

Squip shrugged, wandering into the main seating area of the basement. He nudged his foot against one of the beanbag chairs absently. “What are you playing?”

“He can’t stay,” Michael said bluntly.

Yet, like so many things, Squip got exactly what he wanted. The three of them settled in for the evening, and Jeremy tried very hard not to think perverted thoughts about what his boyfriend’s roommate was currently up to.

***

Moses kissed him all the way inside the house, Rich navigating backwards on pure muscle memory. His memory failed him, his back riding up against the couch. 

Rich tumbled backwards, grasping onto Mo’s shirt and pulling him down on top of him. They landed on a pile on the sofa, Rich peering up at Moses in surprise, before both started laughing.

“I’m sorry, I guess I got a little carried away.”

“I’m sorry, but don’t stop kissing me,” Rich countered.

And Moses compiled, just like that, his warm lips seeking out Rich’s own. Soon, his kissing began to line his jawline, then travel down the swell of his neck. Rich let his head fall back, as Moses bit and sucked on him until he was marking him.

Rich decided that he liked this whole hickey business rather a lot. A lot a lot. Why had he waited so long to get this far with someone?

Maybe it was only good because it was Moses though. Maybe he just had that magic tall guy touch.

“Fuck,” Rich breathed. “This is some good courtship, my guy.”

He felt Moses smile against him, before pecking kisses against him. He kissed up his neck again, then the corner of his mouth, then his lips. Rich’s lips parted, their tongues meeting, before Moses was biting his bottom lip playfully.

Rich moaned, as Moses wrapped his arms around him. He tried to roll them, to bring himself on top of Moses, but only succeeded in toppling both of them to the ground instead.

“Oh shit,” Rich broke the kiss the moment they collided with ground. “Shit, dude, are you okay?”

Moses looked dazed, but amused. Rich lay on top of his chest, as Moses’ hands moved down his back. They didn’t stop until they reached his ass, resting against it for a moment before giving it a squeeze. Rich blushed, and squeaked, and buried his face against Mo’s neck in surprise at his own reaction.

“Oh, don’t hide, sunshine.”

“Can’t help it. Rich can’t come to the phone right now, he is dead, you have deceased him.”

“Deceased him?”

“Killed him. Whatever.” Moses certainly smelled nice, didn’t he? A soft cologne, a faint vanilla undertone to it. Rich nuzzled against his throat, then began to dot it with kisses, timid and uncertain. Was he doing this right? How did he know if he was doing this right?

When Moses moaned, Rich suspected he just might be doing it right after all.

He would have been happy just doing this. Neck kisses and ass grabbing. It was a pleasant position, or at least it was for Rich, being pressed on top of Moses’ firm body. He left a series of hickeys of his own, or at least tried to, before realizing that robotic skin likely wouldn’t show the marks the same way as they showed on Rich’s organic flesh.

It was still a fun practice, and Moses seemed to enjoy it.

And maybe that was all there was to this, having fun, enjoying themselves. Rich had put this whole ‘losing virginity’ thing on such a pedestal, trying to make it some sort of legacy, some sort of ritual. Maybe all there was to it was enjoying company with someone cute, indulging in physical sensation.

Liking someone, and letting them like you back.

Not that this was virginity loss, of course. They were just kissing. They were just touching. They were just having fun.

It was fine.

No pressure.

“You wanna fuck around?” Rich blurted.

Maybe a little bit of pressure after all.

Moses looked up at him with a hazy sort of confusion, before he gave a small nod. “Yes. I...yes, that would be nice.”

“Cool.” Rich kissed him on the lips again, lingering over the softness of his mouth. It was built for kisses, he decided. This mouth, this magnificent mouth, soft and full and large. Built to be smooched and loved. 

Love.

It was a little forward to already be thinking that way, wasn’t it?

Just like it was a little forward to ask about fucking around, when they hardly knew anything about each other. Rich almost started spouting random bouts of personal trivia, as though to gift himself word by word. He wanted to be known, right now. He wanted to be known, understood, seen.

And he didn’t have much time. The futility of time, of how little he had left, never failed to dampen a mood. 

But he wasn’t going to let it ruin this. He kissed and he kissed and he told himself he could share later. Right now, they were going to get to know each other in a physical sense.

Moses’ hands moved over the swell of his hips, and Rich sat up, straddling his lap.

“I’m, like, gonna take off my shirt now, okay?”

“Okay,” Moses agreed. Rich had a feeling he’d have agreed to anything at this point. He shifted against him, realizing with a blush that he could feel his hardness against him.

“When did that happen?”

Moses looked away, smile slipping. “‘I’m sorry. That’s deeply inappropria-”

“Fucking hot. I can’t wait to see it.” Rich covered his face in his hands after he realized what he’d said, groaning. “Fuck, I don’t know how to do this, okay? I’m just really excited.”

“It’s very cute,” Moses insisted.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Rich dropped his hands, offering a faint smile. “Thanks. I’m gonna start getting naked now.”

It occurred to him, briefly, that Squip might still be home. The lights had been on when they’d come in, after all. But he hadn’t heard him, so if he was home, he was likely in his bedroom.

And, frankly, Rich had walked in on Squip and Jeremy often enough to decide it was fair game to make him witness the same if he was still around.

He slipped his hands down, grasping his shirt, and peeling it off overhead. The cool air pricked at the skin of his stomach, and he closed his eyes for a moment. There was something equally liberating and terrifying about this, exposing himself to a stranger.

He felt Moses’ hands move over his abdomen, and opened his eyes to catch sight of it, his paler skin against the darker tone of Moses’ flesh. Mo’s hands felt so large and warm and safe, he wanted to burrow into them forever.

“Sorry I forgot to tell you I had tits,” Rich murmured, as he began to play around with the elastic of his binder. “But like, in fairness, like, I didn’t know we were--I mean, I guess I knew we were going to do this eventually, what with the porno and--oh, the porno!”

Moses slipped his hands around him again, against his lower back. “What about it?” His voice had grown husky, his eyes flickering between looking Rich in the eyes and admiring the shape of his body.

Someone was actually admiring the shape of his body.

Holy fuck, this was unreal.

“I mean, the whole premise was first times, right? Maybe we should take it slower. Just foreplay or, like, oral or...or...god, your hard-on is really distracting, dude. I want it in me, like, now.”

“Not yet,” Moses’ hands traveled upward, and before Rich could make any sense of it, he was slipping his binder off. Rich’s breasts felt heavy and tender once they were free from compression, and he whimpered a little at the hungry way Moses stared at them. “I want to savor you.” Moses stopped, looking back up at his face. “Of course, if you were sincere about only wanting foreplay, we can take it slow. I don’t mind waiting.”

“Huh?” Rich had already forgotten what he’d said about slowness. About not defeating the premise of their future film project. His mind was slow, and his body was fast, and he couldn’t stop looking at Mo’s hands and wishing they were on his tits already. “I don’t wanna wait. I wanna fuck, bro.”

Taking Mo’s wrist, he guided his hand upward, placing his palm directly against his right breast. His nipple was hard, from excitement and air conditioning, and the sensation of it against the lines of Moses’ hand made him shiver pleasantly. Moses’ fingers flexed, and then he was gripping him, groping his chest, his other hand raising to catch the other breast. 

Rich moaned, soft and timid, as Mo’s thumbs circled his nipples. He wriggled against Moses’ lap. 

And then, just as it was getting good, Moses stopped, pulling his hands away. 

“What are you-”

Moses scooped him into his arms in one fluid motion, then rose to his feet. Rich wrapped his arms around his neck in surprise, mouth agape, as Moses smiled down at him.

“I just think you’d be more comfortable in your bed.”

“Shit, I think I forgot to make it.”

Which was a bit of a lie. Rich didn’t forget, because he never made his bed. Oh god, he hoped his room wasn’t too much of a mess. What kind of impression was that to make?

Moses didn’t seem to notice the interior of the room though as he carried Rich inside. He pushed a pile of blankets aside, then lay Rich on the mattress, head against the pillows. Rich watched, fascinated, as Moses loosened his tie, then shook off his suit jacket. His shirt unbuttoned so slowly, each notch another jolt in Rich’s very bones, until he was witnessing the strip of bare skin underneath.

Moses shrugged his shoulders, his shirt falling off of them, until it was dripping to the floor beneath him. His muscles were toned, defined, and the sheer masculinity radiating from him made Rich pine pitifully. He looked over him, pausing only upon the jagged lines that ran over his chest and upper stomach, closed wounds that still looked rough and unnatural compared to the gentle smoothness of the rest of his skin.

“Who hurt you?” Rich asked softly before he had a chance to wonder to himself if it were inappropriate to ask.

Moses glanced down at himself, brushing his fingers over one of the scars. “It doesn’t matter,” He finally said.

So it had been someone, just as he’d suspected. Not an accident, but an act of malice and harm. It made Rich feel sick and angry and miserable.

“It does.” Rich sat up on the bed. “C’mere.”

The bed dipped lower as Moses’ weight redistributed the surface. Rich moved towards him, placing his palm against his chest. He guided him down, kissing him on the lips again, before he let his mouth travel lower. He kissed his neck, his adam’s apple, his collarbone. He kissed along his chest, taking some time to lick and suck on one nipple, then the other. His hands roamed over him, petting his sides, as he drew his mouth back.

“Whoever did this is a real shithead,” He said sincerely, before he began kissing the scars themselves. They felt just as jagged as they looked, and he tried to pour as much healing into every kiss as he could.

Mo’s fingers weaved through his hair, soft breathy noises punctuating the air.

“You’re beautiful,” Rich added. He looked up at him. “You’re really fucking beautiful. I, like, wanna make you feel good. I hope I can make you feel good.” He wrung his hands together. “I don’t really know how, I’m sorta scared that I’m gonna be bad at it, but-”

Moses tipped Rich’s chin up and caught his mouth into another searing kiss. Rich surely was going to die.

Well.

He was dying.

But this made him feel so alive that he’d sort of forgotten for once.

Moses laid him down once more, but didn’t move beyond that for now. They kissed, Moses petting his hair, Rich’s chest rising up against Mo’s own.

It seemed to last forever, until it wasn’t. Until Rich realized he was lifting his hips and Moses was peeling off his pants. His toes curled, as Moses traced the outline of his packer, tenderness and grace, and the absurdity made Rich nervous-giggle.

“Nice dick, huh?” Rich chirped.

Moses slipped down his body, nose bumping against his stomach playfully. “Yes it is.”

Another laugh escaped Rich. He hardly believed it as Moses slipped his underwear off next, setting his ‘nice dick’ beside him on the bed. Rich glanced down, his own nudity stark against the bed, and a lump formed in his throat, nervous and overwhelmed. 

“Hey,” He said softly. “Hey, I...um.”

“Yes, sunshine?”

“Please, like...I’ve never...I mean, you know that, but I just. Don’t laugh at me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He’d thought his mouth was made for kissing, but as Moses moved between his legs, spread him open and began to tease his clit with lips and tongue, Rich couldn’t help but admit that maybe he was built for other things too.

And maybe this was what Rich had been built for. A creature of pure pleasure. He writhed and clutched at the sheets and tried so hard to keep the noise down. But he couldn’t stifle his moans, he couldn’t hide how good it felt, he couldn’t resist anything, as Moses eased a finger inside him, moving and exploring at the same time as his lips moved over him.

Rich’s thighs flopped open, helplessly vulnerable, as one finger became two. Moses stopped sucking on his clit, only to paint him with tender kisses, his cunt and his inner thighs. Every inch of him felt connected in this moment, every synapse one of pure bliss. Moses stretched his fingers in him, then curled them, and Rich shuddered in delight. Moses mouthed his clit again, tongue flat as it lapped at him.

“Fuck!”

He felt Moses smile, but true to his word, he didn’t laugh.

Even as Rich’s body snapped and unraveled, the bath of pleasure warm and drowning and wonderful. He came with a desperate cry, fingers tangling in Moses’ hair, pushing him down against himself, soaking him. Good. Let him drown too. They could be good company for each other in this moment.

Rich’s heart raced, the strain of it all nearly making him pass out as he finally released his hold on Moses’ head. He whined softly, as the fingers pulled out of him, leaving him empty, as Moses licked a path up his body, until he was biting one of his breasts. The bites were chased with tender kisses, his mouth finally traveling upward again.

Rich could taste himself on Moses’ lips. It made him blush.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever stopped blushing.

“I wanna see your dick, bro,” Rich mumbled against him.

This time, Moses broke the promise, a snort becoming a stronger laugh. He reached back, undoing his ponytail and shaking his hair free. “You have quite the way with words, Rich.”

“I know. Show me your dick.”

Moses sat up on his knees, unbuttoning his pants and carefully sliding them from his solid frame. They bunched at his thick thighs for a moment, before he guided them away from muscle.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and his cock sprang free, hard, the tip glistening with precum, or whatever the term was for robot jizz.

It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to question the fluids that inhabited Moses’ body. Besides, something told Rich that it wasn’t the sort of subject Mo would find particularly comfortable even once they were closer.

Closer. As if this wasn’t as close as two people could be.

“Whoa,” Rich breathed. “Nice dick.”

Moses looked down sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“It’s fucking huge.”

“I didn’t think I chose that obscene of an upgrade when I bought it, but--ah, but you don’t want to hear about any of that.”

“Au contraire. Upgrade, huh?”

“My initial form was...less than ideal for my personal tastes.”

“Heh. Same though.” It was a sympathetic little laugh, one he hoped Moses wouldn’t take offense at.

Moses moved forward, kissing the tip of Rich’s nose. “I think we may be kindred spirits.”

Moses made a compelling argument. They certainly seemed to fit as one.

All the more once Rich’s legs were wrapped around Moses’ waist, and Moses’ cock was rubbing against him, slow but purposeful. Rich tried to remember to breathe, but his lungs kept catching, nervous and excited all at once.

“We could wait,” Moses said softly. “You wanted to do this on film.”

“Yeah, well, we can just pretend there’s an audience.”

“I’d rather not,” Mo admitted. “I like it just being you and me.”

Rich grasped at Mo’s shoulders, pulling himself up to kiss him. “Yeah. Me too.” He smiled crookedly. “Besides, missionary is kinda boring for porn, right? ...or maybe boring period. Should I be on my knees or something, or like, riding you, or-”

“Are you comfortable like this?”

“Yeah, but-”

“You deserve to feel comfortable. Besides, I don’t find anything about this, about you, about us boring.”

Why did that make him so dizzy? His fingers flexed against Mo’s shoulders. “You can fuck me now, if you’d like,” His voice was small and submissive and his eyelashes felt heavy as his eyes peered upward.

He watched Moses’ careful expression shift into one that was almost pained with the intensity of desire as he eased himself inside. At first, visuals were all Rich had.

And then the feeling of being penetrated fully settled into him, a dull pressure and a sense of stretching, pain, fullness. Rich’s body clenched down as Moses eased into the wetness of his body, tight, impossibly tight.

“Fuck,” Rich breathed. “So this is what it’s like to be fucked.”

Moses’ lips twitched, eyes bright. “How does it compare to your other earthly pleasures, Richard Goranski?”

Rich wasn’t sure yet. He was nearly certain he loved it, but it was overwhelming too. He adjusted as Moses pressed completely within him. “Pretty darn good, Moses...uh...Moses…” He didn’t know his last name. Did he even have a last name? “Moses McMoses.”

There was a small laugh above him, and then Moses was drawing back. “I’ve got you,” He said softly. “I’m going to take good care of you, Rich. I promise.”

He fucked him slowly, Rich whimpering and gasping, pleasured tears clinging at the corners of his eyes. 

He hadn’t realized he’d thought he’d die before he could experience this, until he was having it now. And now he never wanted this to end.

He didn’t want any of this to ever end.

The bed squeaked beneath them, though it wasn’t loud enough to drown out either of their moans, Moses’ breathier and dignified, Rich’s higher and desperate. Sweat dripped down Rich’s forehead, and he wanted to apologize for it, or perhaps for being so loud, or perhaps for being so greedy--because oh, any bits of pain that had initialized were long faded into a haze of absolute pleasure (Moses just fit his body so well)--but everytime he tried, everytime he even considered speaking, Moses was kissing him again.

They didn’t come as one. Instead, Moses tore another orgasm from Rich’s body, stole his pleasure and absorbed it as his own. Rich’s world spun in technicolor wonder, only clearing up enough to watch the rainbow of emotions that flashed through Moses’ own face as he came. The feeling inside himself was warm and filling and wonderful, and Rich clenched his legs around Moses to keep him locked in close as he moved throughout the waves of pleasure.

And with how much Rich didn’t want it to end, was it any wonder that Rich was rolling Moses over onto his back only moments after, kissing and pawing and kissing and kissing and kissing? 

“If we’re going to be filming, we should probably practice some other angles, don’t you think?”

***

“We’ll probably need a new gimmick.”

The sun was beginning to shine through the cracks in Rich’s blinds. Moses knew he needed to recharge soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to move out of this tiny bed he was sharing with this tiny boy. 

Rich’s hair was messy, and Moses imagined his own couldn’t be much better. He ignored his own, instead smoothing his fingers over Rich’s head. He nuzzled up towards his hands, the movement accentuating his neck and the hickeys Moses had littered him with. 

“Gimmick?”

“For the film.”

“Ah. Of course.” Moses nuzzled the tip of his nose against Rich’s. “You still have other firsts we could exploit.”

“Not many.”

“Well, there’s always...ah, I feel obscene saying it...but there’s always anal.”

“What, like me pegging you?”

Moses looked at him in wide eyed surprise. That wasn’t what he’d been hinting at, but- “Well, if that’s what you’d like.”

Rich laughed. “Maybe.” He shuffled closer, laying his head on Moses’ chest. His hands softly smoothed over Mo’s scars, an idle sort of movement, as he gently kissed the nearest patch of skin he could reach. “Are you, like, still going to court me?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Cool.” Rich yawned. “I’m really kinda digging this whole thing.”

“The romance thing? Or the sex thing?”

“The being alive with you thing.”

Moses threaded his fingers through Rich’s hair. There was something thrilling about this, wasn’t there? Just existing with another person, feeling the weight of humanity of it all.

It was enough to make one nostalgic for the simple art of being alive.

“Yes, I think I know exactly what you mean.”

“Kindred souls, right?” 

“Right.”

The sound of the front door opening caused Moses to still for just a moment, followed by the creak of someone walking down the hallway of the apartment. Whoever was walking stopped in front of Rich’s door, knocking on it.

“Richard,” Squip’s voice sounded artificially annoyed, as though he were pouring all his effort into trying to sound more stern than he actually felt. 

“Yeah?”

“Tell your friend that if he expects breakfast, he can come out and prepare it himself. I’m not a maid.”

“He’s your friend too. Come tell him yourself.”

Moses stiffened nervously, as though expecting Squip to actually throw open the door. The nerves faded almost as soon as they came. Who cared if he saw them? Let the whole world look.

That was the point of the upcoming film anyway, right?

“Absolutely not. And go to bed, Rich. You need to conserve your energy.”

Footsteps traveled away from the door, and Rich rolled his eyes, looking up at Moses with a look of annoyance that was just as false as the tone Squip had employed in his words.

“Can you believe that fucking guy?”

“He’s right. You really should conserve your energy.” Moses said, pulling Rich off of his chest. The cuteness of Rich’s pout left Moses’ artificial heart aching with longing, as he settled himself between his legs, hard again already. 

“What-”

“That’s why you should just lay there while I rock you to sleep.”

“Rock me to--that’s so corny!” Rich squealed as Moses entered him, his laughter hiccuping and punctuated with breathy moans.

Yes, Moses thought. Being alive with Rich was something he could definitely find himself growing addicted to.


End file.
